


Journalistic Integrity

by Needs_More_Lesbians



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Vampire Laura, as well as werewolf summers, species swap i guess?, vamp kirsh is there as well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4878400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Needs_More_Lesbians/pseuds/Needs_More_Lesbians
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Carmilla's annoying little brother gets himself kidnapped, Danny goes missing every full moon, and seriously, is that blood in Laura's hot chocolate?</p><p>(Species Swap AU in which Laura is the centuries-old vampire kidnapper instead, while still somehow managing to be her little dorky self.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

So of most of the weird and quite possibly illegal happenings on the campus of Silas University, this by far had to be the oddest. Will was never late.

If Carmilla Karenstien knew one thing about her nuisance of a little brother, it was that despite how much crap he talked and how big that mouth of his was, he always showed back to the dorm on time. Hockey was at seven every Wednesday, and Carmilla scarcely bothered to cook dinner earlier when she knew Will would be straight back at six thirty on the dot as if the world depended on it and she could just goad him into cooking instead. Perhaps that was the main perk of sharing a dorm room with him. He was just so easy to irritate into doing things.

The room itself was nice too, Carmilla supposed. She had a hankering suspicion that Mommy Dearest had something or other to do with the fact that she and Will had effectively secured the most lavish of dwelling spaces. The room was more like a small flat or apartment than a little college dormitory. carmilla hadn’t thought much of it when she’d first entered. It wasn’t much different than their place back in Berlin, minus most of the state-of-the-art architecture. Will whined about there being no TV for a while, and Carmilla had told him oh-so-endearingly to stuff it, before Mama had finally given in and bought a flatscreen for them to put up. Thus meaning that Carmilla could no longer get her daily dose of Faulkner or Kipling without hearing the obnoxious blaring from that oddessy at all hours of the night.

She’d considered pouring coffee on it more than once, but hadn’t-mostly because she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to.

She’d only started getting a little concerned at half past night and he had yet to send some sort of halfbrained text or something letting her know he’d decided to crash at a friend’s place or something like that. It wasn’t as if she was going to jump straight to some frightening conclusion straight off the bat. Knowing Will he had probably found some fraternity to mess around in, or had gone to a local tavern to watch the game despite being woefully under the age of twenty-seven. Though they were technically twins, born about ten minutes apart, Carmilla had emerged into the world first and counted every damn second of those ten minutes as her God-given right to mess with him once in awhile.

But still, as brainless and irresponsible as he was, Will never really just dropped off the charts like this. Not often, anyway. The only time Carmilla could recall the dark-haired boy storming off had been back when they all had lived in the same house, the memory of which was often befuddled with bad and good times both.

While her Mother could handle an industrial cooperation with ease, she sort of slipped up in other areas of responsibility.

But they’d been out from under her roof for nearly a year now, and all were better for it...So what, exactly, was Willy-boy up to tonight?

It was nearly eleven when Carmilla finally decided to text his phone-a simple ‘If you finally ended up getting laid I’m going to eat my own sock’-and left matters to rest.

Until morning came. And William Karenstien did not come with it.

Carmilla was not one to get paranoid in the slightest. That wasn’t what she did. Even when her elder sister had run away from home, she had always assumed that she’d be fine, and she was right nine times out of ten. Even as she paced the emptiness of her dorm room, glancing at the expensive furniture that littered the place, she accused herself of being silly. He was more than likely fine. He’d probably crashed at a friends place, and would come back later on and laugh at her for worrying.

She sighed and sat back down upon her bed, hand reaching for her book only to hear a faint rustling as her hand passed over...Paper? Sitting up again, she realized that this was the case. A note of some kind had been left on her bed, maybe from the night before, without her realizing it. Quickly, she felt a small smile tug at her mouth. So Will was fine, after all. He’d probably set out for morning classes. She turned the note over, fully expecting to see her brother’s untidy scrawl.

Dear student,  
Your roomate no longer attends Silas University, either due to  
Discovering a separate curriculum which better suits their interests,  
Decided to return home to pursue a different career option  
Returned home due to a family event or for various personal reasons.  
Exit procedures have comments, and no action on your part is required.

And that just was asking for her to be as big of a bitch about this development as possible, wasn’t it?

Being raised by a business executive had passed many skills onto Carmilla, and being as politley impolite as possible was just one of many. During the course of the next five hours, the dark-haired girl had made about thirty phone calls, mentioned being closley related to the owner of Rook Industries a handful of times, and had flat out threatened to solve this issue Spartan style and kick someone off of a cliff if nobody explained what the hell was going on.

No luck.

She ran a hand through her hair in what felt dangerously close to defeat as evening settled over the campus. She was in the midst of being put on hold for the tenth time that day when the unmistakable creak of the door behind her signaled someone’s entrance.

“William, I swear to all that’s Holy if this was some kind of a prank no one is going to find your remains-”

“...Who’s Will?”

Carmilla paused mid threat, which was a rare occurrence in itself. Unless William had gotten his hands on Estrogen overnight, that was a girl’s voice. A girl Carmilla was certain had no business being in her dorm at all.

She swiveled her chair around to see that, indeed, a girl had entered. More than entered, actually, she had set her backpack aside and was eyeing the left over Chips Ahoy bag with professional interest.

“Wrong dorm, sweetheart.” she said swiftly. “The girl-scout meeting is down the hall.”

“Uh...Nope, pretty sure I’m in the right place!” the blonde haired atrocity said in a gratingly chipper manner. “Dorm sixteen, yeah?”

“No.” Carmilla said sharply, finally hanging up the phone when the elevator music just got a little too close to her sanity. “Hate to break it to you, but this is a private suite and my brother happens to already live here.”

“Oh?” the intruder cocked her head at that. “Where’s he?”

“Not here.” Carmilla replied. “But I intend on getting him here again soon right after I clear up things with the woefully inadequate faculty. So get lost.”

“Gee, really gifted in social conversation, aren’t you?” She replied, nose wrinkling slightly as her nerves were finally touched. “Look, I don’t know where your brother is, but I’m apparently supposed to be living here a while. So….Look, how about we try to be civil? Here, I’ll start over.” The girl, who was reminding Carmilla more and more of the poster child for wayward lead brownie counsellors, drew herself up straight as if to look more presentable. “I’m Laura. It’s nice to meet you.”

Carmilla did not humor her.

“And I’m the Duchess of Austria. Beat it.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Laura said through a barely concealed snicker. “Pretty sure they had a code of conduct in royalty. And I’m also sure it had something to do with cleanliness.” she added, hazel eyes sweeping over the scattered food wrappers, empty cans and clothes littering the floor like a carpet.

“I like things on display. It’s like a museum. Of me. And not you. So take that backpack and hit the bricks, sunshine.” Carmilla replied with a roll of her eyes, turning her chair back towards her desk.

“No can do.” Laura said stubbornly. “This is where i’m supposed to be living, and you’re going to have to at least tolerate it, unless your brother spontaneously had his own second coming.”

“He won’t need to do that when I’m going to be dragging his punk ass back here before you can eat all those cookies you’ve been eyeing since you got in here.” Carmilla replied nonchalantly.

“Then go ahead and get him, and I’ll hit the road and find somewhere else. Somewhere...Cleaner.”

Carmilla could hear the disgust in the girl's voice, and smirked to herself. She had ways of driving people out of places where she didn’t want them. Her darling Mother knew that very well.

This girl, of course, would be no different.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Will is still missing, Laura sleeps for half the day, and an argument takes place.

So it now marked three weeks since Carmilla last saw her brother, and Laura Hollis looked like she was going to be here to stay for the remainder of the semester regardless of the fact that she obviously despised it.

Carmilla had gone straight to work unrolling the welcome-or rather, unwelcome-mat in terms of annoying the living hell out of the blonde-haired flower child, and quite honestly, it had gone well so far. Frustration at having her brother vanish off the face of the Earth after having spent the last eighteen years of her life looking after him as Mama couldn’t be damned fueled her vigor in the task, and the results were often quite rewarding.

She’d done her research nearly as soon as Laura had left the dorm room to grab some coffee from the nearby shop, and left her notebooks for class all stacked in a neat little pile on her desk. As soon as her footsteps receded down the hall, Carmilla was quick to snoop through the notebooks. They were rather neat, one labeled Journalism, which made her snort a bit in disbelief, as well as all the normal general education classes. 

So miss ‘I-live-here-now’ fancied herself a new-age Lois Lane? How quaint. Smirking to herself, Carmilla wasted little time in flipping the Journalism book open in the name of information.

Only to find it was completely blank.

This troubled her just slightly-perhaps the chipper little thing didn’t pay as much attention in class as she pretended-but it still tugged at the edge of her mind like an itch, even when Laura returned a few minutes later. It seemed odd, such a seemingly organized student attending lecture after lecture only to write down nothing at all.

But curiosity was something Carmilla didn’t often find useful, and the fact slipped her mind soon after.

So, she set about her usual ways. Laura had tried fruitlessly to clean the dorm one night while Carmilla was spending her time with the giggly redhead from her lit class, and it only took her about ten minutes to effectively throw her things about the floor. Food that Laura stated explicitly was her property went missing as mysteriously as Will had, aside from the fact that Carmilla actually knew the current whereabouts of the chinese takeout residing in her stomach. 

Several times Laura had attempted to reach some sort of understanding with her, trying to bargain or negotiate Carmilla into at least considering the use of the colorful little chore wheel the blonde had concocted one day, but it only took a few passive-aggressive sighs and finely laced sarcasm to cause the girl to throw her hands up in exasperation, mutter something akin to a jibe at Carmilla’s maturity, and leave to do something else.

Carmilla considered her tactics a fine art, really.

Still, the cupcake was nothing if not persistent, and if she had managed to put up with the colossal amount of grief Carmilla gave her for a near month, the dark-haired girl supposed reluctantly that she would have to find some other way of getting rid of her. Mainly, finding Will.

Will, who was still nowhere.

Carmilla had tried everything under the goddamned sun to find that idiot boy. She’d put up missing posters, conducted a few very harsh interviews with a few of the knuckle-headed fraternity boys Will hung with for some reason, called the Dean of Students only to be put on hold every single time to the point where she ended up whistling the elevator music under her breath from time to time.

Funnily enough, Laura actually talked to her about it one evening as she was getting ready for class. For some reason, the little ray of sunshine had selected all night classes, and could usually be found curled into a small ball in her blankets until six or so like a very lost hedgehog. Carmilla would often shoot her disdainful looks as she left for class, but it was less fun when Laura clearly couldn’t see them.

“No luck?” she said as Carmilla slammed the phone on the receiver for what had to be the fourth time that day.

“Take a wild guess, sweetie.” she growled, but the nickname was anything but sweet. If anything, it sounded more like an insult. Laura, who was surveying her over the rim of a mug full of what smelled to be hot chocolate, frowned only slightly at this. She took another sip, eyes flickering to her mug, to Carmilla, and back again.

Carmilla wasn’t really in the mood for subtlety.

“If you want to say something, just go ahead. I don’t have the headspace for games.” she said wearily.

“...I was only thinking,” Laura replied, speaking rather lowly as if she were about to say something she was probably going to regret, “That...I have this friend, you know, Lafontaine. They’re really smart, and-”

“They?” Carmilla inquired, raising a brow. Laura was quick to provide clarification.

“Nonbinary.”

“Ah.”

“So...They’re pretty smart, you know, and I think maybe if you talked to them...They might be able to help? You know, with your brother?”

“Hollis, I’ve spoken to every beefhead with a muscle shirt and every professor I can get my hands on for the past week.” Carmilla replied. “What makes you think is gonna know any different at all?”

“I don’t, but if-”

“Then kindly stick your nose back where it’s supposed to go. This is my brother.” Carmilla stood abruptly, reaching for the container of Chips Ahoy and being sure to look Laura straight in the eye as she popped the last cookie straight in her mouth. “If anyone’s gonna find ‘im,” she continued through a mouth full of preserve chocolate, “‘S gonna be me.”

“Your manners,” Laura said, nose wrinkling in the annoyed expression Carmilla now knew perfectly well, “Are sub-par at best. In case you didn’t notice, I’m trying to help you, here!”

“Yeah, well, don’t need it.” Carmilla replied cooly, swallowing the last of the treat. “Find something else to do that doesn’t involve pretending like you know what you’re talking about, yeah?”

That touched a nerve. Laura stood up, drawing herself to her full height, which had to be five foot three on a good day. Nevertheless, her hands balled into fists at her side and her whole form seemed to quiver in anger. If she didn’t have a hot chocolate mustache, she might have been rather intimidating.

“I,” she began, voice low and fierce, “Have put up with your ridiculously childish antics for what has to be a month now. I’ve been civil to you through your gear-simple plans to try and get what you want, and the only thing you’ve managed to do so far is get placed on hold more times than I can count. Do you ever think maybe there are people who exist outside of the little sphere you’ve thought up?”

Unfazed, Carmilla leaned against the desk, face settling into a rather bored expression. Laura didn’t let up.

“God’s wounds, you strut about here looking like an absolute cur and a harlot to boot, and when I try to help you-”

“Jesus, what are you, a Shakespearean reject?” Carmilla muttered.

“I’ve got a brother, too!! And if something happened to him I’d be just as devastated, which is why I’m trying to-”

“You don’t know a goddamned thing about Will or, me, so would you kindly suck it?”

“FINE!!” Laura shouted, flinging her hands into the air in a gesture Carmilla had grown familiar with. “Go ahead and mope around some more, I’m sure that’ll solve everything!”

“You little…” Carmilla took a breath through gritted teeth. “You know what? Bite me, Hollis. I’m going out.”

She shouldered her way harshly past Laura, who was still practically vibrating from anger, and the blonde girl let out a mocking laugh as Carmilla shut the door.

“I just damn well might!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Laura comes back late, there is blood in the shower, and Lafontaine suggests biological sampling.

Laura wasn’t there when Carmilla returned to the dorm. 

The fact didn’t surprise her much. Laura was more or less nocturnal, Carmilla had figured out, often sleeping until at least six o'clock in the evening or so-more if she could get away with it-and turning up again early in the morning to sleep again. Though where she went was a bit of a mystery-Silas didn’t offer many night classes, and Carmilla had never once seen her roomate open a book of any sort to study, which was odd because she almost always seemed to be reading something. Typically it was boring stuff like the Great Gatsby, original Lois Lane or Agent Carter or Wonder Woman comics, but sometimes she deviated a bit. She’d once looked across the room to see the blonde-haired girl seemingly transfixed by a copy of ‘A Beginner’s Guide to Gallifreyan’, which had made Carmilla snort a bit.

After the explosive argument the night before, Carmilla wasn’t exactly keen to go looking for miss goody-two-shoes, so she was content to call up yet another girl from her calculus classroom and spend the rest of the night i various states of undress while trying exceptionally hard to forget about her brother. For a while, it worked.

Then she performed her walk of shame back to the empty and silent dorm room and it all hit her in the face again.

He’d only been gone a night. Just one night. How was she supposed to know that he’d go missing? As she shut the door behind her and fell onto her waiting mattress, she mused again at how stupidly clear hindsight always was. Already there was a list of things she knew she could have done in order to protect Will, a plethora of ‘could haves’ and ‘should haves’ that served to make Carmilla feel very much like punching something.

So she did.

With a hissed swear word, her fist flew to the side to strike against the wall with a resounding thud, leaving no mark upon the wall. However, a dull pain began to flare in her fist, a pain she was familiar with. Her knuckles were steadily turning red against the pain, throbbing steadily. The pain sort of helped, gave Carmilla something to focus on.

She needed a plan. No one was going to help her, and she needed a plan. Which meant-

The door opened suddenly, and Carmilla whirled around and her face shifted instantly to a cold mask when she recognized her roomate. A quick glance at the digital clock told her it was nearly six in the morning.

“Finally done angsting?” Carmilla asked in a cool tone, “Or have you just come back to-”

She stopped when Laura stepped into the light.

She was covered in blood.

“Jesus!” Carmilla exclaimed, leaping up from her bed and momentarily forgetting the fact that her own shirt was very much not present. Laura was, in fact, covered in blood-though perhaps not exactly as bad as Carmilla had first registered. The blonde looked exceptionally pale, rather frightened if anything, and her lips had clearly been busted or something judging from the blood around her mouth, chin. and neck. Her shirt and arms, likewise, were splattered here and there with dark red stains, some of which had turned a rust color. The shorter girl stood near the door, frozen, eyes wide and brown and terrified.

“It’s…” Laura said, and her voice was shaking and high. “It’s not…”

Carmilla shook her head in awe-struck silence as Laura trailed off. Had her roomate gotten into a fight? Gotten jumped? She had to say, the blonde-haired girl had never struck her as the type to get into fights. Gotten jumped seemed the most likely answer. But who would have a grudge against Laura Hollis, of all people?

Carmilla swallowed. “...You gonna tell me who did it, then?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice level and steady and likewise fighting to not think about the fact that her roomate may or may not be a serial killer.

“Did..?” Laura repeated, clearly confused. “No one did...It just, uh...I..”

“Just what?” Carmilla demanded, still attempting to keep her hand from inching for the phone to call nine one one under the hypothesis that Laura was suffering some kind of breakdown. “Did you get assaulted? Got into a fight?”

“Just, um...No, it…” Laura took in an unsteady breath that sounded painfully like she was trying not to cry. “I...This, um, guy cornered me when I was heading back to campus and...Just...I didn’t know what else-”

“Take the shower.” Carmilla interrupted.

Laura blinked. “What?”

“The shower.” the dark haired girl gestured to the bathroom. “I don’t know what kind of trauma you’ve got going on in there, cupcake, but you’re clearly not going to handle telling me tonight. Get cleaned up and sleep it off.”

“I’m, um..” Laura ran a hand through her hair, smearing in rust amidst the mess of blonde. “I’ve got a lecture-”

“I’ll tell everybody you’re sick. Leprosy or something.” Carmilla said dismissively. 

Laura swallowed, nodded once. “Okay.” She said, though made no move to go. “Okay.” Then, she finally made her way to the bathroom.

Her hands shook as she opened the door, and Carmilla pretended she couldn’t hear the crying when it closed.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And then she just apologized and told me it was nothing. Not a word from her since.”

The redhead beside Carmilla twirled their pen in their hand a few times, brow furrowed. “No kidding?”

“None. Radio silence. She didn’t even put on that stupid Carter show she watches every week.” Carmilla frowned slightly. “I never liked the television much, but I’m starting to hate how quiet it is in there. Freaks me out.”

“Well…” Lafontaine, who Carmilla had ended up sitting beside in Biology class. “Maybe you should get her to talk to a professor or something? It sounds like she’s got some kind of psychological damage. Or you could find a way to sneak me some blood samples from the stuff on her clothes? It’s a really simple test to find out what the type is, and once we have that sorted-”

“I’m not ransacking my potentially serial killer rommate’s clothes, thanks.”

Though Carmilla had been loath to sit beside the person Laura had suggested might be able to help with Will’s disappearance, because pride was a hell of a sharp thing to swallow, she had to admit that there seemed to be more factors of positivity than drawbacks. LAfontaine, aside from having a pretty cool haircut, also had a huge knack for any and all forms of biology and science, and had very large handwriting. As far as Carmilla was concerned, she had a free ride through both semesters. Not to mention, though they could be a little overzealous when it came to lab experiments, it meant that they were fully content to do the whole thing themselves and leave Carmilla free to stare through the rain-soaked wonder and ponder. 

“I just...I don’t know.” Carmilla mused, leaning her head in her hand. “Do you think she actually beat someone to a pulp?”

“Laura?” Lafontaine quirked a brow. “I can’t really see her pulling a Hulk like that. Maybe just keep an eye out for a little. Still...I get kinda worried.” their shoulders stiffened a bit. “Bad things happen to collage girls walking alone at night.”

Carmilla’s breath caught slightly. She hadn’t even considered that possibility. “You don’t think…?”

“I don’t know. I’ll try talking to her later, if you want.” The ginger said with a small sigh. “But anything’s possible.”

Carmilla tried not to think about that darker option, instead attempting to steer the conversation away. “So….If you don’t mind me asking...When do you start going by your last name.”

“Couple of years ago.” They replied with a shrug. “I mostly just started because I thought it sounded cooler. More original.”

“In that case...when did you figure out it was because-”

“When did you figure out you were gay?” Lafontaine asked suddenly.

Carmilla blinked. “Sorry?”

“You’re gay, right? When did you figure it out? Did something happen?”

“That isn’t a thing, I’ve just always been…” Carmilla stopped suddenly, the penny dropping. “Oh.”

Lafonatine nodded once. “Get it? It’s the same sort of thing.”

“Yeah.” she replied, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I get it. Sorry, that was kind of a jerk question.”

“Well,” they grinned, “You are kind of a jerk, so.”

“Watch it, Doctor Frankenstien.”


	4. Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carmilla gains a friend, and enemy, and a distraught ex-girlfriend.

As much as Carmilla had been loath to accept any of her roommates' help in any shape or form, bringing Lafontaine back to her dorm was a pretty good idea to be honest.

For all of their macabre fascination with the many shadowed nooks and crannies science had to offer, they sure as hell had a sense of humor. Between their combined efforts, they were both already halfway through Laura’s cookies-Carmilla had said with great assurance that, traumatized or not, sharing was caring-and the dark haired girl was struggling to keep up with the plot of Orphan Black.

“You can’t tell me she’s straight.” Carmilla said suddenly, as the French character resigned herself to yet another moment of awkward sexual tension between her and Cosima. “She’s about as straight as a goddamned circle.”

“Give it, like, twenty minutes.” Lafontaine replied, squinting at the screen with some interest. “Or maybe less than-ah, there we go.” the redhead said with some satisfaction as the two finally kissed.

“Jesus, took them long enough.” Carmilla said. “You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife.”

But Carmilla’s analysis of the two girls who were probably about to get it on was cut short by a sharp rap on the door. Her brow furrowed. The cupcake never knocked, as this was technically her room as well, which meant it was someone Carmilla probably wasn’t familiar with. Which, by extension, meant it was someone she didn’t particularly want to bother herself with.

The rap came again, sharp and rather annoying. Carmilla waved a dismissive hand to Lafontaine as they looked over, concerned. “Leave it.” she said. “I could care less.”

That is, until a poignant voice filtered through, shrill and wavering and sounding very much like nails on a chalkboard. 

“You said you’d call me back!!”

A faint groan escaped the leather-clad jilter, while Lafontaine looked to her in disbelief. “You’re kidding me.” they said under their breath. “Can I film this?”

“Sure. Give the police a way to document your last moments alive.” Carmilla threatened before raising her voice to something resembling artificial sweetener. “Just a minute, Sarah!”

And just a minute was all it took for the short, brown haired and mascara streaked girl to throw her possessive little arms around Carmilla, sniffling all the way.

It was by far one of the most awkward situations she had gotten into. But, of course, she handled it professionally once the girl had calmed down, leading her to take a seat.

“It was one time.” Carmilla said firmly. “I told you that before, didn’t I?”

Lafontaine, with their laptop still open to the paused television show, was being a very good sport in terms of trying not to laugh audibly.

 

“I kn-know it, but..” Sarah paused here to retrieve yet another tissue. “I just thought maybe-”

Carmilla was already shaking her head. “I told you before, it was strictly one night. That’s how I do things.”

“I know.” the girl said, exasperation creeping subtly into her tone. “But this week has been so stressful, and so much has been happening, and I’m so sure I flunked that calculus class, and Elsie’s gone missing and-”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Carmilla said, holding a hand to stop Sarah’s jabber. “Elsie? She’s gone, too?”

“What do you mean ‘too’?” Lafontaine piped up.

“My brother, Will...He vanished a few weeks ago. I’ve tried everything, but...Now Elsie’s vanished as well?”

“They’ll turn up again.” sounded a familiar voice from the doorway. Carmilla looked up, eyes narrowed. Laura, of course, had shown up at the most inopportune moment, because that was probably her sole job. Had she not been entirely unwelcome at the present moment, Carmilla might have said she looked dressed to kill. There always had been something about a girl in a lapeled jacket that made angels sing choruses.

On Laura, however, Carmilla decided it just looked stupid. “What’re you all spiffed up for?”

“I have this thing called a job.” Laura replied, setting her bag down on her bed. “And like I said, they’ll turn up again. Your brother, and the girl. They always tend to.”

“Okay, you know what?” Carmilla said, standing up. “I’m kind of sick of all this cryptic stuff, sweetie. Either you know where my brother is or you don’t and if you know you had better damn well tell me before I pry that information out.”

Laura did not flinch. “I don’t know where he is. But looking for him isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

“Oh?” Carmilla replied, voice just as sharp. “Try me.”

“Uh...Hey, Laura!” Lafontaine said, forcing a chipper tone as if attempting to diffuse the tension as much as possible. As if a switch had flipped, Laura turned to her friend with a warm smile. 

“Hey, Laf! Is my emotionally distant roommate treating you okay?”

“Fine. Mistress of the Snark and I were watching some Orphan Black. Care to join? We scored some cookies.” They replied, with what even Carmilla considered a winning smile.

“That’s fine. It looks like the three of you have some brand new mystery to solve, so I think I’ll just-”

“No, no, no, sunshine.” Carmilla replied in a falsely pleasant tone. “It seems like you know a little bit about this, and Sarah was just heading out anyway.”

“I don’t know anything.” Laura replied, skittish. Carmilla, meanwhile, placed a slender hand on the still distraught girl’s shoulder, motioning with her head for her to stand as well. “I’ll text you, Sarah.” she cooed, not failing to notice Laura’s curled lip at her tone. “Would that make you feel better?”

Sarah hiccuped and nodded, allowing Carmilla to place an arm about her shoulders in order to steer her to the door. She could nearly feel Laura’s disapproval like ice on the back of her neck, and couldn’t quite stop the smirk when she kissed Sarah on the cheek before the door closed.

“You shouldn’t jilt a poor girl like that.” Laura said, folding her arms. “It’s cruel.”

“Well, we’re not here to discuss my sex life, seeing as neither of you have any.” Carmilla pointed out. “We’re talking about the fact that two goddamned students have gone missing now, maybe more, and no one’s done anything?!” Carmilla exclaimed in disbelief. She was no stranger to things getting covered up, having a Mother who always ran business in less than legal ways, but when there were lives at stake…”Wait.” Carmilla said suddenly, pushing her bangs back with one hand. “You said they always turned out. Has this happened before?”

“I...It’s…” Laura’s eyes flickered about the room as if searching for a way out of the conversation. “It’s not my business, so it’s-”

“Will is my brother! My responsibility!” Carmilla said fiercely, taking a threatening step forward. “If you think I’m going to let some prissy, old fashioned-”

“Do not,” Laura said, eyes narrowing, “Threaten me, Karenstien.”

“Uh,” Lafontaine piped suddenly. “Not that I want to get in the way of your twisted aggressive tension, but I think I have a very obvious solution to the problem where no one’s limbs have to get torn off?”

“Which would be?” Laura asked, not taking her eyes off her roomate.

“Well, we’re not supposed to bother him or even really visit his office except in life or death scenarios, and seeing as students are missing...We could just go to the Dean of Students.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a promise is broken, the Dean is visited, and an unlikely hero gets no thanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super long chapter today, because I forgot to update for two weeks! Real life is lame when it gets in the way of writing. Hope you enjoy!

Even when she’d wandered in covered in what was definitely blood at about three in the morning, Laura had never looked this scared. At the very mention of the Dean’s title, she seemed to freeze as if she had caught a glimpse of something terrifying, to the point where Carmilla had to actually glance behind her shoulder to make sure the Babadook or whatever wasn’t standing behind her. But, no, whatever the reason was for the terror in Laura’s eyes, it didn’t seem to be anything physical.

“...That Dean never talks to students.” Laura said, seeming to snap herself out of whatever state she had gotten into. Lafontaine glanced at Carmilla, no doubt questioning the quick change. “Never. I’ve been here a full year and I’ve never even seen his office door open at all.”

“Well, ignoring me isn’t going to be an option.” Carmilla said somberly, rolling the sleeves of her flannel up her forearms. “I think I’ve had about enough of being put on hold, wouldn’t you say, Doc?”

Lafontaine looks rather puzzled by the nickname, but nods all the same. “Someone’s gotta figure it out.” they replied.

“Who the hell says it has to be you?” Laura demanded, stepping forward in a way that should have been frightening, but there’s a nearly pleading note in her voice that prevents her from appearing too scary. Swallowing a biting retort, Carmilla watched quietly as Laura continued to talk.

“So your brother goes missing, and that’s awful, and there are a couple other students who drop off campus. But you don’t even know they’ve gotten kidnapped, and the Dean...He..” Laura stopped there, seeming to fumble for a proper adjective, which was laughable considering how eloquently she always seemed to insult Carmilla.

“Well?” Carmilla replied. “What about him?”

“...He isn’t nice.” Laura said. It’s nearly a whisper, but it’s enough to make Carmilla falter a little.

“Neither am I.” She said simply. “What’s got you in this frazzle, Cupcake? First you walk in here late at night looking like a homicide victim and now you nearly wet yourself when I say I’m going to talk to the Dean of Students?”

Laura took a deep breath. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

There’s a quality in her voice that makes Carmilla think she’s said that to herself a lot. It’s not exactly comforting.

“Sure. Well, Laf and I are going to talk to him. We’re not asking you to come, okay?”

“Wait...Hold on.” Laura said, reaching out to grasp Carmilla by the forearm, and the touch alone makes her pause. Laura’s hand is small and colder than expected and Carmilla doesn’t pull away.

“Sometimes...In his office.” Laura says carefully, like she’s trying not to say too much. “There’ll not be a light on. You have to promise me something. Something important. If there’s no light on, you can’t go inside. Okay?”

Her brow furrowed at the odd request. Who cared about lights and whether they were on or not? And furthermore, was there any particular reason Laura was looking at her like she was trying to either get a glimpse of her soul or set her on fire? “...Sure.” Carmilla said.

“You have to promise me.”

“Fine. Fine.” Carmilla quickly pulled her arm out of her roomate’s grip. “We won’t go rooting around too much. But if he’s there, we’re talking to him.”

Laura looked at her a few seconds more before deciding that it was about the best she was going to get and sitting on her bed. Her legs seemed to collapse, as if she couldn’t keep herself standing anymore. “Good.” she said softly, more to herself. “Good.”

\-----------------------------------------------------

Yeah, like hell Carmilla was going to keep that promise.

Regardless of if she had meant it in the moment, with Laura staring at her so urgently, now that she was actually standing outside the dark Office door and Lafontaine was beside her, there wasn’t any way she could stop herself from rooting through a few things.

There was something kind of intimidating about the office door. IT was oak, painted, but the paint was clearly ancient and peeling off in places...Which was even odder when one considered that the wall around it was freshly painted. It was like nobody wanted to touch the thing. Even the plaquard, which read “Perigrin Chateu, Dean of Students’, was faded and rusting in places. THe lights inside were clearly off. Nothing showed at the crack where the door met with the floor.

Beside her, Lafontaine suddenly spoke.

“Is it cold on here to you?”

Carmilla was about to say that no, it really wasn’t, but stopped when she realized that her breath was coming out in clouds. At was as if winter had decided to come two months early, and a glance to her right told her that Lafontaine was shivering madly.

“I’m...Kind of regretting this choice here.” They said through chattering teeth.

Ignoring the goosebumps on her skin, Carmilla squared her shoulders. “If I can deal with my mom after a hangover, I can deal with a bit of cold weather and a reclusive Dean.” she said firmly, before stepping forward.

Her hand burned as soon as it touched the metal. She withdrew it with a quite yelp, and ignoring the demand of explanation from Lafontaine, Carmilla realized that the doorknob...No, the whole goddamned door was covered with a thin sheet of ice. Top to bottom.

“...Bio-nerd, please tell me there’s an explanation for this.” Carmilla said flatly.

“I don’t know, Jack Frost? Look, Carmilla, I really think we should just wait and come back when the lights are on. Like Laura said.”

Carmilla scoffed. “You’re really going to let this past? We’ve got to figure out what the hell this is…” She tugged the sleeve of her flannel down over the palm of her hand, ignoring the cold burn as it soaked through the fabric. With a quick twist, the door was open.

It felt like walking into a freezer.

A cold blast of air howled outward, making Carmilla’s hair fly back, and her breath seemed to freeze in her lungs. She couldn’t see anything. It was like the Office was some black hole that devoured light as soon as it came, devoured everything, and nothing was inside the door and nothing was inside Carmilla, and far away, Will was screaming…

\-----------------------------------------------

She was freezing when she woke up.

Blinking groggily, Carmilla focused on the ceiling in front of her. It was out of focus and distant, and a flurry of movement around her made it seemed like she was travelling forward at an alarming rate. there were whispers, voices she almost recognize…

“...Just collapsed..”

“Like everything was just gone….Freezing cold…”

“Lucky thing we met up with you…”

“...God, I told her not to…”

Carmilla’s head spun as the world seemed to come back into focus. The orange glow of the lamp on the ceiling contrasted with blackness. It was night. She became aware that she was shivering, violently. Laura’s voice, which she now recognized, grew in volume and intensity both.

“Hey...Hey, she’s awake. Carm? Carm, come on, say something!”

“....I am never going to open a fucking refrigerator again.”

There was a choked laugh from somewhere above her, and then a sudden weight. A shock of orange hair told her that Lafontaine had just given her an awkward sort of hug. After she was released, Carmilla sat up, head still spinning. Laura and Lafontaine were both there, but there was a third girl...Someone she didn’t recognized..

“Carmilla, this is Danny.” Lafontaine said, indicating yet another ginger. “She carried you back here after you...Well...Passed out.”

“Really.” Carmilla said, running a still trembling hand through her hair. “Can’t say I remember it.”

The second ginger-Danny-looked a bit crestfallen. 

“You know,” she said, “I’d be okay with just a thank you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Danny is absent, questions multiply, and Carmilla draws an unexpected portrait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My most fervent and enthusiastic apologies. I know how long it's been since an update. Real life has been a little in the way and my muse dropped, but with the renewal of Season three, I got inspired to try again. I hope you enjoy!!

Danny is, alas, exactly as Carmilla expected-shrill, prone to heroics and far, far too tall.

She ignores the clear goad for an ounce of gratitude in favor of rolling her eyes, the bitter sting of failure still evident in her mouth. Whoever-or whatever-the Dean was, he’d beaten her again. Will remained lost, her limbs remained freezing cold, and her questions multiplied.

Lafontaine seems almost gleeful at the prospect of doctoring her up, which disturbs Carmilla partially because she is simply unused to being fussed over and partly because it seems far too solemn a thing to be so enthusiastic over. In minutes Carmilla has three blankets of varying material wrapped about her shoulders, a thermometer lodged underneath her tongue, and a mug of hot chocolate in her hands.

Funnily enough, the last of these objects was provided by Laura rather than Lafontaine. The girl had been staring fixedly at Carmilla virtually since she’d regained awareness, worrying at her lower lip until Carmilla swore there was a thin stream of blood dripping near her chin. Laura licked the droplet away before finally getting up, only to wordlessly press the steaming mug into Carmilla’s hands.

Carmilla offered no thanks for this, either, but Laura doesn't seem to want any. In fact, the rigidness of her shoulders suggests she’d rather neither of them act like it had just happened. Carmilla is more than willing to do so.

In between Danny’s lengthy explanation of her happening to be near the Deans office to inquire about lightening the grounds security for the Summer Sisters-which Carmilla pays no attention to-she sips the drink. Laura has made it far too sweet for her taste, using what she swears must be three packets of sugar and fifty percent milk along with the mixture. But it’s warm, and that is Carmilla’s first priority.

“-And then I carried you back. You were pretty light, honestly.”

Carmilla chokes a bit on your next swallow.

“You mean to imply you carried me back here like some knight in shining armor, Lawrence?”

She quirks a brow. “Something like that.”

Carmilla suddenly has a mental image of herself dressed like some swooning damsel, being swept away by a valiant Dannielle Lawrence, and fights the urge to vomit.

“I still haven’t heard a thank you.”

“You’re not going to get one.” Carmilla grumbles. “Is there any particular reason you’re still here?”

Danny stands up. It’s clear the dark-haired girl has called some defense. “I was going to see how you were, but given you’re feeling well enough to make sarcastic remarks-”

“Thank God-”

“I’ll be on my way.”

Lafontaine, ever the peacemaker, stands to give their fellow red-head an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Danny. She’s not always like this-”

There’s a definite snort from Laura, who attempts to conceal it as a cough.

“-So I’m sure she’d be more polite if she wasn’t recovering from slight hypothermia.”

It’s clear that Danny neither believes this nor is going to come back to find out, but Lafontaine is the sort to be far too likeable to dismiss, and her glare soon softens. “Take care, Laf. I’ll be out of comission for tomorrow, so tell the lit students to send essays to my box if they’d like a proofreading, okay?”

“Will do.”

And with a last glare in Carmilla’s direction, she is gone.

“Thank God.” the dark-haired girl sighs, leaning back and tossing her forearm across her forehead. “I thought I’d be victim to the wiles of the Red Knight for at least another hour.”

To her surprise, a quick glance up shows Laura to be smiling, a small smile as if Carmilla has brought up some secret joke. “You’re right. Knights are fairly insufferable.”

She seems, oddly, to be speaking from personal experience.

\----------------------------------

The next day Carmilla is still frail and feverish, but her philosophy lecture waits for neither man nor beast, and she manages to drag herself to lit class after downing an energy drink-much to Laura’s disapproval.

“They manufacture those with nothing but your worst interests at heart.” she’d said, nose wrinkling in disgust.

“You eat cookies a year past the expiration date.”

That had shut her up.

Carmilla is one of the last in class to appear, which is nothing new, and she offers little more than a wink to her latest conquest-a sophmore by the name of Jennifer. There are heavier things on her mind.

The Dean and Will’s kidnapping were entwined somehow. But how? What cause might the headmaster of Silas have with a boy eleven months her junior, or what cause might he have to dissuade her from finding him? She needed to talk to Lafontaine, sooner rather than later. In the margin of her notes, she wrote three words in a column-William, Silas, Laura and Dean. Then, a line intersecting the Dean with Laura, William with the Dean, and circled Silas across each one.

It was connected. Everything was. It had to be.

“And so, as we can derive from Fitzgerald’s oversight of the human condition, universally…” 

The lecture, which might have once captured her attention, seemed to drone endlessly as Carmilla aimlessly doodled a sketch in her notebook. She typically drew girls, and wasn’t surprised when the tip of her pencil grazed into locks of hair, swishing down over a sketched bust. She angled the chin next, a bit round, punctuated by a pair of lips quirked up into a slight smile, the figure looking half over one shoulder. It wasn’t until Carmilla penciled in the eyes, the light shading of one soft cheek, that she realized she knew all too well this particular profile.

Startled, Carmilla realized she had drawn her roommate.

She promptly threw the paper away.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kirsh is the little brother, history is discussed, and there is blood in the hot chocolate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, kids.  
> So, this fic has been under a VERY LNG hiatus, but with the closing of the webseries and the announcment of the movie, I thought today would be an awesome day to break that hiatus. Thanks so much to everyone who had read this and enjoyed it. I'm seeing a lot of other species swap fics and they're all very good, so I decided to continue this one. I hope everyone enjoys, and thank you so much for sticking with me thus far.

The days that follow are fairly uneventful, as well as fairly frustrating. You attend classes when you feel like it, get into numerous debates regarding Beowulf and the Bronte Sisters (You think they were all at least bisexual, your professor found this irrelevant), and no one says anything about your brother.

 

Will is still absolutely nowhere.

 

You’ve done everything you can think of. You’ve threatened, called the school, tried to speak to the Dean only to figure out he was likely some form of dementor, and for the moment it looks like the only one who might have even the slightest inkling of his whereabouts is your roommate.

 

Your roommate who sometimes shows up in the middle of the night coated in blood.

 

Your roommate who has yet to attend a single class here.

 

Your roommate whom you are beginning to suspect might be a serial killer.

 

But your brother is missing and you swore you’d look after him which is why, armed with nothing but a particularly heavy history textbook and a few words of encouragement from Lafontaine, you decide to get some answers.

 

Laura, very surprisingly, isn’t alone when you walk into the dorm. She’s sitting at her desk as usual, mug of hot chocolate in hand, apparently deep in conversation with...Brody Kirsh.

 

The lunkhead from your English class was clearly after either a one-night stand or some homework answers. He would be getting neither from you. Laura pauses mid-scentance in order to regard your entry.

 

“Don’t worry about it, alright? I’m sure he’ll come around eventual-” Laura blinks, glancing over to you. “Ah! Hello, Carmilla.”

 

“Evening.” you say stiffly. Your eyes are still affixed to the hulking mass of a man who is still in your dorm room. “Late night study-session.”

 

“Oh-yes, that’s totally what we’re doing.” Laura says, much too quickly in your opinion. She flips open her notebook to a blank page. “Kirsh just had a question about the lecture yesterday.”

 

Your eyes narrow. “There was no lecture yesterday, cutie. Professor cancelled because he was sick, remember?”

 

Her face flushes in a way you sort of despise. “Ah...Um, yes, I meant the one-”

 

“Save it, Hollis.” You dump your bag down and flop on your bed. “If you’re doing a hook-up it’s none of my business, but at least take it somewhere else. I already have to put up with my daily life being pervaded by heterosexuality.”

 

Laura, to her credit, looks dumbfounded. Kirsh, meanwhile, has the decency to avoid eye contact.

 

“Hook up? With…?” A large grin spreads across Laura’s face, and gives way soon afterwards to a bout of laughter that forces her to set her mug down.

 

You are distinctly unamused.

 

“Totally not after anything like that, angry hottie.” The lunkhead replies, bearing the smile of the blissfully braindead. “Hollis and I are just pals.”

 

“Well, good pals, but not much beyond that.” Laura says, fixing Kirsh with a fond smile that you have a sudden wild urge to smack away. “He’s like a brother to me, you know?”

 

You’re expecting some cringing from the boy’s end, or some other whining about the so-called ‘friendzone.’ Instead, Kirsh just beams. “Long as I get to be oldest.”

 

“You don’t.” Laura replies, reaching forward and lightly tapping the tip of his nose with one finger.

 

Annoyance sparks in your gut. You’re going to get a migraine if you have to put up with that sort of fluffiness, platonic or not. “Well, be it far from me to stand in the way of sibling love, am I right? But unless you idiots want to take it elsewhere, I’m going to have to ask for a damper on it. I’ve got at least three overdue lit papers already.”

 

Laura’s face softens in a way you sort of hate. “Aw, I’m sorry. Kirsh can totally go hang out with his buddies so you can get a head start! In fact, here, why don’t I help you? I’m fairly good with words, so if you needed help phrasing-”

 

“Who the hell said anything about doing them?” You growl. “I just need quiet so I can sleep and pretend they don’t exist.”

 

Laura looks at you reproachfully. Kirsh, however, stands and scratches the back of his neck. “I probably should get going, though, Laur. I was gonna grab a drink.”

 

“Make good choices, yeah?” Laura chides as the taller boy makes his way out of the door.

 

“Yes ma’am!”

 

Laura chuckles as the door shuts. Whatever relationship the two have, it’s obviously quite close regardless of what Laura insists.

 

You already don’t like it.

 

Laura takes another sip of chocolate. You don’t have to open your eyes to know she’s staring at you.

 

“I don’t charge for looking, but it’s also considered impolite in most circles.” you drawl.

 

“Shut up, I wasn’t even-” She insists, and you’re pleased to hear that she sounds quite flustered. “I just wanted to ask what your paper was on.”

 

You sigh and force yourself to sit up, stretching your arms over your head. It’s a little boost to your ego when you catch Laura glancing quickly at the bit of skin exposed at your waist by the movement. “The Reign of Terror, apparently.”

 

Laura’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “Ah.”

 

“What’s the matter?”

 

“Well, just….That’s a fairly broad topic, isn’t it?” she says quickly. “What exactly do you have to do.”

 

“Describe the way it impacted civilians...Well, from what I can remember.” You squint at the ceiling. Had that been the prompt? God only knew at this point.

 

“Well...I can tell you it was hot. Temperature-wise.”

 

You blink. “Beg pardon?”

 

Laura chuckles quietly. “Well the most bloodshed happened in the summer, right after the royals were beheaded. Tensions were beyond high. It was like everything had exploded and nobody as safe anymore. See, you had to be very careful about what you said and did, because if anyone even guessed you didn’t approve of the people’s government..” Laura traced a finger across her neck. “And it stank, too. There were too many corpses to bury and they’d just be left there until the rats got at them. People used to just step over them and try not to gag, that’s how bad it smelled.”

 

You feel almost as if you shouldn’t speak. The air suddenly feels weighted, and Laura stares into her mug with an expression that seems equally old and tired. “...I didn’t know you studied French History, cutie.”

 

“What?” Laura looks at you again, and suddenly it seems as though the spell is broken. “I mean, I don’t. I just read this book on it once, and..Well, I mean, most if it is just guesswork and...Uh…” She stands, leaving her mug where it is, and quickly marching to her bag.

 

You quirk a brow. “Got a hot date?”

 

“No, I...Uh...Just remembered that I have to be somewhere that isn’t here. I just…” Laura licks her lip nervously, eyes darting the perimeter of the room. “...Yeah. I have to go.”

 

She pauses in the doorway.

 

“Goodnight, Carmilla.”

 

And then she’s gone, just like that.

 

To say you are confused is an understatement. And it doesn’t get any better when you decide to have a sip of her chocolate and taste rust.

 

Almost as if it had been filled with blood.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carmilla makes a discovery, Dermatologists hate Laura, and Lafontaine comes up with a plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter today. I hope you all will bear with me as I try to finish all my midterms on time!!

You do some googling after she leaves.

 

In hindsight, you’re fairly sure it’s a laughable testament to the millennial generation that your first reaction to the suspicion that your roommate might be vampiric is to google it. But the search engine had never let you down in your history finals, and you doubted it had a reason to disappoint now. 

 

As predicted, much of the results are heterosexual pandering to a borderline abusive fantasy. You roll your eyes and scroll away from the twilight-esque options in order to get to a basic outline.

 

Your eyes narrow at the screen, and you lean back in your chair. You’ll have to stop by the library to pick up a copy of Bram Stocker as a reference. 

 

Thus far, she isn’t meeting very much of the quota. Still, as the next few weeks progress you decide to keep a better eye on her with the old legends in mind, and are a little chilled by the things you notice.

 

Firstly, she has an extensive knowledge of history predating even past the time her grandparents should have been alive. You sneak to stand outside the doorway of her Ancient History class, and were a little impressed when she stood up from her chair and engaged the professor in a highly verbose debate regarding the treatment of women in the mid-fifties. 

 

You try to give her the benefit of the doubt. There’s the chance she might just be really interested in history, but it’s just the way she speaks that throws her off. She uses words like ‘we’ too easily, describing even specific instances before flushing and stammering a weak source to use as example.

 

You go so far as to look for the book she listed. It doesn’t exist.

 

Secondly, there was the hot chocolate incident paired up with the time she showed up in your dorm covered in blood. A chill creeps across your forearms as you realize that your joking suspicions about her being a killer might not be so unfounded at all.

 

It the research session with Laf that seals Miss Hollis in the proverbial coffin. After a bit of digging and a truly disastrous run to the library, you and your associate (you don’t like to use the word friend because you know how smug they’ll get) grabbed an anthology of Silas newspapers dating back to around nineteen forty two.

 

And guess who is in every single one of them. 

 

You’d recognize the scrunched up nose anywhere. There’s your roommate, still fresh-faced and eighteen, receiving the award for Prestigious Journalism in nineteen forty two.

 

You stare at the paper, dumbstruck, for a good fifteen minutes before Lafontaine speaks.

 

“So this can’t be a misprint.”

 

“No.”

 

“Could it be a relative, like a Grandmother?”

 

You flip back through the newspapers, fingers delicate against the yellowing and aged pages. There’s a clipping from the graduation class-Laura Hollis, class of nineteen fifty-two. She looks exactly the same, as though it had been just yesterday that she had been photographed.

 

“Not unless her grandmother was a set of identical quintuplets.”

 

LAfontaine takes the binder from you and flips through. THeir eyes are narrowed, appearing a darker blue in the dim lighting. “No...No, wait.” They say suddenly. “There’s a pattern.”

 

“What?”

 

“Nineteen forty-two...And nineteen fifty-two, then again in nineteen sixty-two...She’s going in a pattern.” They look up, clearly certain in their findings. “Every ten years, decade by decade, there has been a Laura Hollis at Silas. She majors in journalism every single time, and she never looks like she’s aged a day. THis has to mean she’s…”

 

“But, wait, hang on.” You say, holding up a hand to stop them. “Why the hell would she become immortal to just go to college? That’s the worst use of an ability I’ve ever seen.”

 

“Well, maybe there’s an ulterior motive.” You muffle a snort. Lafontaine must be watching more Crimminal Minds. “You know there’s only one way to find this out for sure, right?”

 

You meet eyes with the scientest and almost laugh. “You’re kidding. Wow, what a great idea. I’ll just go up to her and say, ‘gee, Hollis, mind telling me why an undead fiend from the lowest circles of hell ended up as my roomate?’”

 

“What?” Lafontaine blinks, confused. “No, that’s a stupid idea. I was thinking we ransack her belongings.”

 

You look at them, a broad grin slowly spreading across your face. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”


End file.
